


The Best Way I can

by EllyAvon



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bruises, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Relationship Talk, accidental injury, real-like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllyAvon/pseuds/EllyAvon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How about the trope where Bigger Character(TM) Accidentally leaves bruises on Smaller Character (TM)?</p><p>Bitty is used to Jack waking him up, but this is not what he expected.</p><p>TRIGGERS: Jack accidentally bruises Bitty during consensual activities. Please feel free to ask me if you have questions or concerns!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Way I can

“Bits.”

It’s Jack’s voice, Bitty knows right away. Even though this is only his third night sleeping in Jack’s beautiful arms, in his beautiful bed, in his beautiful apartment, it’s far from his first time being awoken by Jack saying his name.

“Bittle,” he says again, and his voice sounds different than it usually does. It isn’t insistent like they’re going to checking practice, but it isn’t soft, like the previous mornings. Bitty stretches a bit and peeps open an eye.

Jack’s face is pale in the dim morning light, but his eyes are alive with horror and sadness.

“Oh honey,” he murmurs, brought quickly into full consciousness, “what’s the matter?”

Jack doesn’t say anything, but stares at him like something has gone terribly wrong, his eyes rake up and down Bitty’s body in a way that’s familiar but not at the same time.

“Jack,” he says carefully, “are you okay?”

“I...” he manages, and he’s nearly folded in on himself, all of his muscles clenched and coiled, “I hurt you.”

It’s not what he expected to hear, and he blurts, “what?”

“Look,” Jack whispers. He unfurls himself, and it looks painful. Finally, he slowly indicates Bitty’s arm, where, yes, there is a series of purplish, decidedly finger-sized bruises. “Here,” he says, “and here,” his fingers shake as he points downward, where Bitty’s hips have a matching set.

“Oh,” Bitty breathes, and his chest tightens.

“Tabarnac,” he mutters, and swings himself out of bed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Jack, Jack,” Bitty says, and fumbles after him, caught briefly in the blankets, and drapes himself over his back, “Honey, it doesn’t hurt. It’s not that bad. I don’t...” he wants to continue that he doesn’t mind, that he doesn’t care, but honestly he isn’t sure. This is entirely new. He’s had a lot of bruises in his life, he’s fallen on the ice in countless flimsy costumes, he’s been kicked and punched by people much bigger and stronger than he is. He’s thoughtlessly walked into counters and tables while baking, he even fell during Spring C the year he lost his shoe.

This is a little different.

“I hurt you,” Jack says again and buries his face in his hands.

Bitty is quiet. He nuzzles his face into Jack’s shoulder blades, kisses the back of his neck.

“I always knew,” Jack says, and Bitty can barely hear him, “I always knew I would hurt you somehow, someday, because,” Bitty can feel a stuttering gasp vibrate through his chest, “because people hurt each other, accidentally, because relationships are hard and I’m not,” he chokes, “I’m not good at them anyway, but I never thought, Bitty, I never thought I would _injure_ you.”

Bitty can’t let this just continue, “Jack, honey, sweetheart. You didn’t mean to. I’ll have you know I’ve had much worse than this.” It’s true. He can see the marks on his arms. The ones on his left a bit darker than the ones on his right. He remembers how it felt, he remembers the tightness and pressure of Jack’s sure grip. Maybe it had hurt, but he wasn’t afraid, or in pain. Last night had been a gorgeous swirl of pleasure and heat.

“Jack,” he says calmly, “Part of why I...” he trails off, “why I care for your ridiculous self so much, is that you don’t treat me like I’m some small delicate thing.”

“But,” Jack interrupts.

“No. No, you listen here, Mr. Zimmermann. I’m not a wilting little flower who can’t survive some rough handling.” He tries not to sound petulant, but it comes out sharp.

“I didn’t mean,” Jack starts again.

Bitty takes a deep breath and presses his cheek to Jack’s shoulder, “I like when you hold me tight, Jack. I like when you lose control and give me everything you have to give. I love that you’re passionate with me. It’s overwhelming sometimes, but I wouldn’t have you other than you are.”

Jack breathes out an enormous sigh, and leans his head back so Bitty can kiss his ear, his cheek, his jaw. Bitty crawls around and settles himself in Jack’s lap, his head tucked in against his shoulder. Jack’s cheek is still wet, pressed against Bitty’s temple.

“You got no call feeling guilty for something we did together,” he whispers. “I’ll always tell you if you’re really hurting me. I will.”

“I’ll be more careful,” Jack promises.

“I’m sure you will, but if this happens every once in awhile, then it does. I’m not upset about it. I’m not going to beg for more of ‘em but I wouldn’t undo one second of last night,” He tilts his head up to look into Jack’s eyes, worried and blue, shining more than usual. “Not one second.”

Jack kisses him; it’s sweet and gentle, almost sleepy.

“I’m sorry,” Jack whispers against his lips.

“Well, if you’re so sorry about them, you can go ahead and kiss them better, and we’ll call it all forgiven,” Bitty says imperiously.

Jack snorts a laugh, “I guess I better take that deal, eh?”

“If you’re so intent on punishing yourself, then there’s no other recourse,” he agrees with mock-seriousness.

Jack smiles and rearranges them on the bed. As he leans down to plant the first kiss on Bitty’s bicep, he looks into Bitty’s face, “I know you’re not fragile, but you are precious. I want you to be safe and happy and... I want you to be safe and happy with me.”

Bitty buries his hands in Jack’s hair, strokes down his temples and cheeks and jaw.

“You have always kept me safe in the best way you knew how, Jack. Even when it was checking me into the boards at four in the morning.”

Now Jack does laugh, “Yeah, you’re high maintenance like that, aren’t you, Bittle?”

Bitty’s heart warms at the chirp, “That’s right I am. Now get on with the kissing, mister. Once I’m all better I’m making us breakfast.”

Before Jack kisses every part of Bitty that’s blossomed with bruises, before they make their bed and throw on their clothes, before Bitty turns on his music and starts singing and cooking, before they plan their day over omelettes and French pressed coffee, before they go out into the world where they have to pretend to be old frat buddies, Jack presses his head against Bitty’s chest, and they hold each other close; safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment and be my friend on Tumblr @heartsandflowersalways. Also, listen to my voice on @the-wellie-podcast!


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